


Accidents That Save Lives

by GalaxyThreads



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brothers, Fluff, Gen, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Kid Loki and Kid Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Minor Injuries, Odin and Frigga's B+ parenting, Pre-Thor (2011), Secrets, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 04:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyThreads/pseuds/GalaxyThreads
Summary: Loki accidentally discovers he's a Frost Giant with Thor when they're very young and the two work together to help Loki accept it. (One-shot) No slash, no smut





	Accidents That Save Lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beantheredonethat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beantheredonethat/gifts).



> I would like to thank beantheredonethat for their patience as they waited for this. It was a great deal of fun to write. :) Thank you! =D Hopefully you like it! :)
> 
> Thor and Loki are about 6 and 9 in the first part of this, just so you know. =)
> 
> Rated for: Bullying, some violence, injury, and paranoia on my part. Language is all K. No slash, smut, non-con, or incest. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing!
> 
> For your information, this cross-posted on Fanfiction.Net under the pen name of "LodestarJumper".
> 
> Just a personal note, if you could refrain from using cussing/strong language if you comment (no offense to how you speak! Promise! =) It just makes me uncomfortable) I would greatly appreciate that. ;)

* * *

 

Thor has never been a light sleeper. It's just a fact of life that he's long since accepted, like the idea that the twin suns rise every morn or that water flows  _down_  on Asgard. Simple, easy truth. Fact. It's never bothered him much before, though Fulla, his and Loki's governess, is always pestering him about it, saying that someday he's going to get killed in an ambush.

Thor would always shrug in response, not caring as he ought.

He sleeps.

There is no harm in that, yes?

It's because of this, he's not quite certain when Loki started shaking at his shoulder, but he  _does_ know when he awakens because his little brother, apparently having given up, is crawling onto his mattress. His brain blearily processes this, momentarily confused. It's dark in his room, though not pitch black, and there isn't enough for him to properly see his younger brother by.

He can hear him, though. Sniffling.

Thor pauses, squints, then props himself onto one elbow, staring at the slumped form of Loki curled at the edge of his bed. "Loki?" He says, though his voice is slurred. Norns, it must be the middle of the night. Loki's spine stiffens before he rolls over, turning to look at him with wide green eyes.

In his hands is the knitted horse that their aunt, Freya gifted him many years ago. Loki often sleeps with it, though Thor can't fathom  _why._ He's never been emotionally attached to stuffed animals as his younger brother is, though Loki's always been more sensitive than other children his age. Or what  _Thor_ was at his age.

"Loki, why are you in here?" Thor persists, reaching his foot out to jab at Loki's abdomen with his toe.

Loki hisses sharply, then crawls forward to plop down beside Thor's legs. "Bad dream." He whispers, "You said if I got scared again I could sleep in here." His voice is hesitant and Thor blows out a breath, distantly remembering making such a promise to Loki some time in the last few months.

Loki's dreams have never been very restful, but there are only few that draw him to this paralyzed state. No one knows except for their parents and Thor. Loki's eyes are wide, wet, and fearful. This assures Thor that his little brother is frightened enough that had their parents been in Asgard, he probably would have gone to them after he couldn't wake Thor easily.

Humph.

Thor rests a hand on Loki's boney back for reassurance, then settles back against the mattress. "Don't worry, brother, I won't let anything happen to you." He assures and Loki shifts closer, gripping his horse in a death grip that could easily remove the head if he tried hard enough.

Thor runs his fingers along Loki's back, trying to soothe him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nnnmmm." Loki shakes his head rapidly.

Thor sighs.

Alright.

Sleep, then?

He shifts onto his side and grumbles tiredly under his breath as he nudges at Loki, "Sit up for a second, you're going to catch an illness from this chill, then Mother and Father will string me from the palace by my toes when they return for getting you unwell."

Loki snorts, but complies, "You're not my keeper," he argues.

Thor throws up the covers and Loki crawls underneath them, resting on his side, facing Thor. Thor lifts an eyebrow slightly and shrugs, "I'm to look out for you, brother," he says simply, "are you certain that you don't want to speak over your dream?"

Loki tugs the animal closer and shakes his head, "Yes."

Thor adjusts the blankets over Loki's shoulder, "Alright," he agrees, "sleep, brother. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"Thor," Loki's voice is quiet some five minutes later and Thor makes a humming noise of inquiry, keeping his eyes closed, "Mother and Father will be home, soon, yes?"

"Five more days," Thor assures, trying not to be irritated. Loki has asked this every day since their Father left for the city of Speckle Point, north of Asgard's capital Serenity, and Mother returned to Vanaheim for her father's four thousands's name day. They've been gone for two days, yet Loki acts as though they have no plans to return.

"Okay," Loki agrees quietly, "goodnight, Thor."

Thor sighs quietly. "Goodnight, Loki."

000o000

The next morning after Fulla has pestered them both into eating something, Thor and Loki attend their lessons and then Loki follows Thor to the training grounds. Thor would love to leave Loki in the palace sense Loki is too young to participate, but he follows Thor around like a loyal puppy and he's more than happy to wait on the sidelines. Usually.

Thor's class is the lowest level still, but he's finally allowed  _within_ the class and he's more than happy to have to work his way up through the levels. There's ten, and Thor is determined to have gone through all of them before he reaches adulthood. He has a ways to go, but he has at least  _held_ a training sword before. There are some in his class that are barely picking it up for the first time and one looked like he might cry when he was poked with the blunted edge.

He and Loki have often chased each other around with training weapons, or at least wooden ones, and he's been hit a lot before. It's not a problem, he can take hits without weeping.

His trainer, Breí Brogson is a brutal man and treats them all like their idiots, but Thor has had worse before, so he mostly just follows his instructions and stays quiet. Loki insists that he's mean because he was demoted to working with the children at Thor's level, and Thor's not certain where Loki got that information. He believes it, but he has no idea where it came from. He's heard no such rumors before.

But Loki always just  _knows_ things like that, and Thor's never really been bothered by that fact.

Loki is smarter than him.

That's that.

The move that they're working on is some sort of disarming thrust, where you have to remove the sword by flinging it then, in the moment of distraction, jab your opponent in the chest. Thor can accomplish it without a problem, it's  _blocking_ it that he has no idea how to do. Master Brogson refuses to answer that, saying vehemently over and over again, " _learn by yourself"._ Thor thinks that policy is stupid.

But his insistence on that hasn't changed anything.

He's already performed the move on his opponent, a boy by the name of Arwet, and successfully blocked two attempts now. He's relieved, and considering himself incredibly lucky, because as of the yet no one else has managed to withstand the blow. And perhaps he's a little optimistic about  _that_.

Arwet's eyes keep growing thinner and thinner the longer Thor keeps defending him, and the strange bubble of relief within his stomach keeps expanding.

Finally, Master Brogson finally storms up next to the two of them, "Arwet! I thought that you'd had this move mastered!" He booms. He's never quiet about anything.  _Ever._  He shouts everything he says and it annoys Thor to no end. There are different levels of tone in your voice for a  _reason. Use them._

"I did, Sir!" Arwet heaves out between sharp breaths. "He keeps blocking it!"

Master Brogosn turns to Thor, then, with thinned eyes and his expression irate. "That's not possible. Defense from this move isn't mastered until you've reached your Third Years."

Thor shifts the grip on his sword a little, then says after a second: "Maybe I'm just more advanced for my age."

Master Brogson's expression doesn't flicker, the heated stare of unhappiness boring down on him so powerfully it makes Thor want to shrivel. He holds his ground, though, as any good warrior or Valkyrie would do.

Master Brogson throws out an annoyed breath and turns to Arwet, " _You_ have simply not mastered the move. Try again and this time  _get it."_ He storms off to yell at some other paired group and Thor mentally winces for their sake.

Arwet glares at Thor darkly and lifts his sword, "I have this move mastered. I know this."

"Yes, you've been successful so far." Thor agrees, "...Just not with me."

Arwet scowls, if possible, darker, before leaping at Thor with a cry. Thor stumbles backwards to accommodate for this, barely managing to hold his ground as he dives out of the way of Arwet's swing. This isn't the move they were told to practice, it's  _rage._ And Thor would be a liar to not admit that the adrenaline rushing through him isn't welcomed. Or exciting.

The sting and sudden thrill is replaced with a gnawing worry with Arwet's sword smacks across Thor's face, cutting deep and drawing blood. Lots of blood. This isn't pretend. Arwet doesn't stop.

He manages to counter one of Arwet's blows with his own, aiming to only disarm, not hurt, but Arwen doesn't seem to care either way. He plows forward without grace, stumbling across his footwork and Thor realizes that he's getting lazy. He takes this to his advantage, and manages to catch Arwet's hilt with his sword, moving to disengage him, but Arwet pulls out of the blow and kicks him sharply in the chest, driving his weapon across Thor's side.

Pain explodes through his abdomen and he draws out breath sharply, stumbling onto his back with hot, fiery  _pain._

Ow.

_Ow!_

"Thor!" Loki's voice swims through the surface and Thor blinks hazily to realize that his younger brother is leaning over him with wide green eyes.  _In the middle of the practice arena._

"Loki," Thor slurs, attempting to shove him off, but Loki is clumsily pulling up his shirt to see how bad the damage is. He has no medical training yet, but pretty much anyone can stem bleeding. "It's a flesh wound," Thor insists, "go."

"Brother, it's bleeding bad." Loki whispers, looking at him wildly. His eyes turn from Thor to beyond him, where Thor imagines Arwet is still standing. "You hurt him!" Loki shouts angrily, "You  _hurt_ my brother!"

"Good!" Arwet sneers, "Self-righteous brat. Thinks he's better than everyone."

Thor heaves himself into a sitting position. "I do  _not."_

"Please," Arwet counters with an ugly face, "we all know that only an  _idiot_ would drag their younger, stupid brother into the training grounds. Look at him, he's barely taller than a stalk of grass. Everyone knows about the fragile, little Loki who might snap if you breathe near him. Wimpy, good for nothing—"

Thor's on his feet, his fists clenched tightly, " _Shut up!"_

"Or what?" Arwet challenges, "You going to  _bleed_ at me?"

"I said shut it!"

Arwet smirks and looks towards where Loki is standing behind Thor, "Still hiding behind your brother, my prince?  _Grow up."_

In hindsight, maybe leaping at Arwet without a weapon and a damaged side probably wasn't the best idea he's had, but  _no one_ says things like that about Loki with him around. It's the first time he's started a physical fight, and Thor finds that he  _doesn't_ like being the first person to deliver a blow. It's different without a weapon.

Darker.

More hateful.

_A good king never seeks out—_

Thor's fist collides with Arwet's face as he tackles the older boy to the ground and he's delivered two blows as he shouts things he barely hears before Master Brogson is tearing him off Arwet's back. Thor's chest is heaving with rage, and he can taste nothing else but a sharp ozone in his mouth.

"Prince Thor!" Master Brogson yells and shoves him back slightly, "How  _dare_ you attack another student!"

Arwet is wiping blood from his nose, and beyond the slight discoloration of that area, he looks fine.

"He said—" Thor starts, but Master Brogson growls lowly.

"I don't care! You do  _not_ attack without provocation and you didn't have one! I  _know_ you're a hotheaded student—you never  _want_ one! You are banned from the training ring for the next week. Apologize to Arwet."

Thor's jaw is lax with surprise, and his fists tighten with anger. He doesn't  _want_ to apologize to Arwet. He wants to hit him again. How dare he say such things about his younger—

Loki.

_Where is Loki!?_

Thor sweeps his gaze across the training grounds, but he can't spot the familiar head of dark raven hair. The first thing that pops into his mind is a word he's heard his mother curse in Vanir with on rare occasions, but this warrants that. Probably.  _Curses._

He feels his face drain of color, "Where is Loki?" He demands, hoping desperately that one of the other students is blocking him.  _Where is his brother!?_

They aren't.

"I don't know!" Master Brogson snips, "Why should I care!?"

Thor's chest heaves with panic and he ignores the older man as he begins to elbow his way through the growing crowd towards the palace. "Prince Thor!" Master Brogson hisses, "Get back here and apologize!"

Why? He wouldn't mean it. Father's always trying to encourage them to not lie and—

_A good king never seeks out war—_

"Fine! I'm sorry!" Thor shouts behind him, then breaks into a run for the golden gates.

_He has to find Loki._

000o000

He ends up finding the acting regent for Serenity, Uncle Vili, before he comes across Loki. Thor nearly plows over the older man and another councilwoman, Lady Pettidottir as he rounds a corner, smacking into the woman with a jolt. He lets out a gasp of pain and surprise, hand coming to press against the cut on his side as Lady Pettidottir stumbles backwards.

She straightens herself and stares at him with a heated look, "Prince Thor," she starts sharply, "you should hope that you have an explanation for—"

"Have you seen Loki?" Thor blurts out instead, stumbling over himself as he strains to see past her.

"No." She sniffs, "Of course not. He should be with Fulla."

No. Thor already went to her and she hasn't seen him either. It's been over two hours and Thor is growing desperate.

"Slow down, Nephew," Uncle Vili commands, "I saw him headed for the lower levels of the palace not twenty minutes past. I thought he was perhaps running from someone he angered with a prank. Did something happen?" He questions, but Thor is already moving before he can answer. He doesn't bother to give one over his shoulder, or be polite enough to offer a "thank you".

Sixteen minutes later, Thor's stumbling towards one of the only rooms in the lower levels that isn't a torture room, a bunker, or really accessible with anything that isn't magic: The Treasury Room. It only has guards for when people are gathered in the palace, but no one knows that but the royal family and the captain of the guard.

Thor pushes the door open with a shove, hand pressed against his bleeding side and heaves out a sharp breath. This is definitely one of Loki's more elaborate places to hide, and he's not certain he's to privy to it.

"Loki?" He calls hesitantly, quietly, because this room commands silence.

He hears a quiet sniffle and Thor squints into the dark, spotting Loki on the stairs a moment later, hands wrapped around his knees. He releases a relieved breath and comes to a stop next to him, easing himself beside the younger.

Thor rests a hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

Loki peaks up at him, "Did you get banned from training because you hit him?" Loki breathes in question, his voice barely above a hiccup, "You didn't have to hit him! I didn't mind what he s-said."

Thor tightens his grip, " _I_ did. And I'm not sorry I hit him."

Loki chokes back a sob, "You like training and I made you s-s-top and know you'll be c-cross with meee."

Thor shakes his head and pulls Loki in for an embrace, thankful he decided to leave his wounded side away from Loki. Loki hiccups again before he begins to cry, burying his head into Thor's chest. "'M sorry." He whispers.

"I'm not cross with you, Little Brother," Thor assures, "I wasn't banned, it's only a week long absence. That's not long."  _Yes, it is. It's forever and a half, but he's not going to tell Loki that._

Loki grumbles something in disagreement and Thor shoves at him playfully, "I'll be fine. Besides, it will give me plenty of time to spend thinking."

Loki huffs, "You don't think."

"Exactly," Thor agrees, "it will give me lots of time to  _learn_ how to think." He can almost see the eyeroll, but Loki doesn't lift his head to show him. Thor keeps a hand steady on Loki's back, rubbing circles as he stares at the room around him. The waves of power keep rolling towards him, almost like a summon and Thor doesn't like it much.

This room feels tainted.

Ugly.

Thor blows out a breath, "Why  _here_ of all places. You know Father doesn't like us to be in here without him."

Loki tenses slightly, "I was…" he lifts his head and squints, seeming distracted, "trying to hide from everyone...I thought that you'd…" he shakes his head, once, then twice, "hate me and no one would think to look for me...here."

Yes.

That's true.

Thor would have searched up and down the palace, but it wouldn't have occurred to him to search here unless Uncle Vili hadn't seen it.

Loki shakes his head again, squeezing his eyes as if in pain.

"Loki?" Thor questions with concern, "What's wrong?"

His younger brother tilts his head slightly, "I…" He trails, "don't you  _hear_ that? That  _singing."_

Thor pauses, listening. The only sound he can pick out is their faint breathing and the whispers of some of the artifacts. No singing. Nothing as painful as Loki is experiencing. Loki rises to his feet, his eyes looking slightly glazed.

"Loki…" Thor trails, rising to his as well when Loki begins to walk forward.

"I need to find it," Loki murmurs, "I need to  _hold_ it."

No.

He shouldn't.

If something is  _telling_ him to touch something here, they shouldn't.

"Loki, I think we should leave—" Thor starts to argue, but Loki has already strode across the small space between the stairs and where the Casket of Ancient Winters is propped on a pedestal. Loki's small fingers are reaching towards it and panic blossoms in his chest. The Destroyer is there, if he touches it, it will _kill him_. Thor moves towards his brother rapidly.

"Loki,  _stop—"_

Loki plucks the Casket up with his small hands, straining with the weight and he holds it for a long second before Thor crashes into him, shoving him to the ground. The Casket is thrown from Loki's grip, and skids across the room with a loud  _clatter._

Thor tumbles to his feet and strains to reach it, but when his hand touches the side it  _burns_ him. He hisses and draws his hand back, resisting the urge to put it in his mouth and remembers suddenly that no Aesir can touch it with their bare hands. It has to be through cloth.

And— _ow._

Loki.

Loki  _grabbed_ it.

Thor turns to ask his brother if he's well, then freezes. Loki is sitting up and staring at him with wide  _red_ eyes. The daze he seems to have slipped into earlier has stopped and Thor flicks his gaze towards the Casket, then Loki again, trying to  _understand._

"Brother," Loki addresses, and Thor can't quite withhold his flinch. Loki's face flickers with his confusion. "Are you hale? Is something amiss?"

Thor swallows, but it doesn't help his suddenly dry throat, "Loki," he keeps his voice as level as he can despite his urge to  _scream, "_ you're  _blue."_

"I'm…" Loki trails in a repeat, then looks down at his arms and his eyes widen with horror. He stumbles backwards, crashing into one of the walls then he looks up at Thor. "Brother!" He cries, his voice frightened, but Thor can't make himself move. "I don't understand!  _Help me!"_

The plea is desperate and Thor finds himself moving forward because even if Loki is suddenly  _blue,_ he's still his brother. He grabs at Loki's shoulder, trying to steady both the raven-haired Asgardian and himself. "Loki, breathe, calm yourself."

"I'm—I'm— _I'm—"_

"I don't know what happened," Thor admits with some reluctance, "do you feel any pain?"

"No," Loki breathes out, his voice small.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No."

"Then it must be something that only affects the outside of your skin," Thor thinks aloud, "maybe a glamour or…?"

"Am I cursed?" Loki whispers, lifting his hand to stare at the designs carved into his skin. They look familiar, but Thor can't place from where. He's  _never_ seen this curse before.

Thor hesitates. "I don't know. I've never heard of any curses turning you  _blue_ before. The Frost Giants must have—"

"But you touched it," Loki blurts, "and  _you_ didn't turn blue. So why did  _I_ …?"

Thor shakes his head, giving Loki's shoulder a squeeze, "We'll figure this out, I swear to you brother. If you  _have_ been cursed, we will not rest until we break it."

000o000

Loki ends up putting the Casket back as Thor goes to find a cloak because Loki's sorcery isn't advanced enough for him to hold a glamour for very long and they've decided that until they know what the problem is, they don't want anyone to know. Through Loki's suggestions and Thor's experience, they manage to make it back to Thor's room without anyone seeing them and Loki throws off the cloak, then goes to stand in front of the mirror Thor has located in his bathroom.

Thor watches from the doorway as Loki traces the lines on his forehead and arms quietly with a small frown before he turns back to him. "We need to learn more about curses." He determines, "I'll search the library for—"

"No." Thor interrupts.

Loki looks at him, "I'm sorry?"

" _We'll_ search the library, brother. I said I will help you, and help you I will. Where do we start?"

000o000

They spend all day searching through the texts and well into the night. Thor's eyes are aching from staring at so many pages and his brain feels fuzzy from trying to understand so much in a single sitting. His side keeps stinging with pain as well, though Thor knows it will be gone in a few days. Should he see Eir? Probably. Is he? Not until this curse—business is cleared up.

That's what a Valkyrie would do.

Loki first looked through any book of sedir on curses, then poisons, but couldn't find anything similar to what happened.

Thor had then suggested they look over Jotunheim's texts to see if they could find something there.

Thor has learned far more about the Jotunn than he ever really cared to know. Before that it was mostly just folk tales and those that his parents would tell him, but now he has  _history._ He knows what they  _eat._

And he's still very tired.

The book keepers have already left for the night with a stern look in Thor's direction to not do anything stupid (Loki has been hiding himself with invisibility every time someone has passed), and Thor had waved at them with a wide smile. It probably hadn't reassured them, but it wasn't meant to.

The library is quiet save the turning of pages and the flicker of the candle when Loki thrusts a book into his lap. His red eyes have dimmed slightly, and Thor realizes that it's because he's been crying. Rather than grow red and wet like Thor's would, they dim.

Odd.

Thor flicks his gaze towards the book and Loki points towards a passage, wordlessly, his lip quivering. Thor quickly skims across the paragraph:

_Jotunn's are linked in a way that Aesir have never been. A single touch of their skin against one another can break any spell or glamour hiding something on their person. Wounds are often found this way between shield brothers, and their healers use this for stubborn children. Sedir runs through only a few branches of the royal family, so warding off glamour is only used between them now, however, and—_

Thor looks up. "I don't…"  _Understand. Know what to say. Get your point. Want to see what you're seeing._

"Brother," Loki's lip quivers sharply at the word, "the Casket holds the Jotunn's power. Could it not do that," he gestures towards the passage, "to a Jotunn all the same?"

Thor pauses, a gnawing hole of horror beginning to sink into his stomach.

No.

That can't be true.

Loki's  _not a—_

"No." Thor says sharply, slamming the book shut and causing Loki to jump, "You're not a—" Thor can't even  _say_ it. It's so wrong. Loki's  _not._ "You're my brother. Mother  _birthed_ you."

"Did she?" Loki demands sharply, his voice thick with tears, "Thor, I'm  _Jotunn."_ He whispers the words as if confessing murder, and Thor rears back from them like he did. "I'm not your brother, I never was. I'm  _Jotunn."_

Thor clenches his fists sharply. "No. That's not…" he trails, trying to gather his thoughts together.  _What can he say to make this better? He's the only member of his family without a silver-tongue._ "No. I'll ask our tutor tomorrow, you'll see. It's just a curse." Thor promises, "You're  _not_ Jotunn."

Loki only gives him a despairing look of disagreement.

000o000

As much as Thor hates it, evidence with Loki's theory builds up more than any Thor can use to knock it down. The only  _real_ argument he has now is that their parents would have told them, but Thor doesn't  _know_ that. So when at the end of class, with the room empty save himself and Sir Borison, Thor  _means_ to ask Sir Borison if Loki is a Jotunn, but all that comes out instead is: "Is Loki adopted?"

Sir Borison pauses, then turns to look at him with a small frown. "Why do you ask?"

Thor barely resists the urge to ring his hands and instead rocks on his toes slightly. "He doesn't look anything like me, or my parents," Thor admits. Except Odin's first wife who died in battle long before Thor was born, but Loki isn't older than him and that makes no sense for him to have been birthed by her.

Sir Borison's lips thin slightly and he sighs, "Genetically speaking, there  _is_ no way your brother could have green eyes and black hair given your parents and their parents before them. Those traits don't run in either family, but Frigga went into hiding at the end of the Jotunn-Aesir war, she confirmed it was to hide her unborn child. Your brother isn't adopted, Thor."

No.

He  _is._

Because Sir Borison was lied to, too.

Thor's stomach sinks and he gives a pained grimace for smile, "Thank you." He says and scampers off before Sir Borison can ask him  _why_ he wanted to know that.

Thor reveals everything that Sir Borison told him to Loki, and they both weep together.

Thor holds him close for the first time since this whole mess started and doesn't flinch at how cold Loki is. "You're still my brother," he promises, "I  _choose_ you to be my brother."

"I'm a monster!" Loki cries, "You can't be brothers with a monster!"

"I'm brothers with  _Loki,"_ Thor counters angrily, "and I don't care if he's a Kree. You're my brother and just because you were adopted doesn't change that. I still love you."

"I love you, too." Loki hiccups slightly, his breath slipping in and out rhythmically before he raises a hand for Thor to look at. "Thor," He whispers. Thor realizes that it's the familiar pale,  _white_ skin of Loki's Aesir form.

Thor hugs him tighter with relief, then realizes with a slight jolt, "You never burned me."

Loki looks up at him, familiar green eyes confused, "No," he realizes, "I didn't. Maybe…" He trails, looking down at his hand with less disgust, but doesn't finish the thought. Thor smiles cheerfully and squeezes his eyes shut with relief.

Loki is not a monster.

He is  _Jotunn,_ but he is not a monster.

He's still Thor's brother, and that's all that matters. It's all that  _has_ to.

000o000

Frigga and Aunt Freya (Frigga's official lady-in-waiting) return two days later, with a tired smile and a small hug. She kisses the top of their heads like nothing has changed (when  _everything_ has) and asks them how their week was. She has clearly not spoken with anyone because Thor broke Arwet's nose (still, he is not sorry) and Master Brogson is considering expanding his punishment.

Thor doesn't care.

Loki matters more than stupid Master Brogson.

Thor shrugs in response and Loki lifts up a picture that he drew, "Look, Amma," he proclaims his eyes alight with happiness. He's calmed much since that night and they've grown to accept the idea. Loki was adopted, and Thor was not, but that changes nothing. Thor encouraged Loki to change his form to the Jotunn again so he could learn how to shift between the two with greater ease should something like this happen again.

They've decided not to tell anyone.

Thor knows his parents are keeping it from others for a reason, and he respects that.

They're going to wait until  _they_ tell  _them_ before they admit that they already knew. It will be soon, Thor imagines, while Loki is still yet a young adolescent. That makes the most  _sense._ Loki agreed with him and so their life shattering discovery has been private.

"That's lovely, Dearheart," Frigga assures and lifts the picture with a smile, "have you seen this?" She asks Freya who shakes her head slightly then gently boops Loki's nose.

"It's wonderful, Nephew," she assures.

Loki giggles a little self consciously, then grabs Frigga's outstretched hand and begins to chatter about everything that he and Thor did the last few days (exempting the discovery and Thor punching Arwet in the face) with excessive details and rapid speech that reassures Thor.

Loki will be fine.

They all will be.

Later that night as Frigga's tucking him into bed (a rare feet that has happened only a few times in his life before), Thor looks up at her, "Mother," he questions, gnawing on his inner lip for a moment. She pauses and stares at him with concern, a gentle prod for him to continue, "you love me and Loki equally, yes?"

Frigga's eyebrows meet and she sits on the side of the bed, "Of course, why would you ask such a question?"

_Because Loki's adopted, and we know._

_Because Loki's a Frost G—Jotunn and I want to make sure._

_Because Loki is not our blood._

_Because—_

Thor shrugs, "I punched Arwet in the face a few days ago. Master Brogson doesn't want me to return." He admits, directing the topic off of the question as rapidly as seems normal. He hates this, it feels like lying, even if it isn't, and it makes his stomach twist with discomfort.

Frigga's lips thin a little and with a soft fondness in her voice that assures him that she's jesting, she answers, "I love you equally, but I think that Loki is my favorite now."

000o000

And that's pretty much that.

Life goes on.

Odin returns to the palace and embraces them like usual, he doesn't even flinch when Loki clings to his hand more than usual and smiles when Thor speaks rapidly to him about anything he can think of. Their parents treat them no differently and Thor is reassured by this.

Years pass from that date in the Treasury Room, and Thor barely thinks about Loki's Jotunn form anymore. He still knows it's there and has seen Loki occasionally shift his hands to touch something, but they hardly speak on it.

Thor is well into Midgardian fourteen and Loki eleven when Loki stumbles into his room, closes the door and nearly face plants on the floor declaring that he's too warm and can't breathe. Thor's received some medical training at this point, but all he can think to do is yell and flap his hands around in panic.

After a moment, he settles his racing mind to panic in the background, drags Loki to the bathroom and throws him fully clothed into a cold bath and the frigid water touches Loki's skin before the Jotunn form is revealed and Loki sputters into a lucid state with a gasp.

"Thor!" He exclaims, attempting to get out of the water, but Thor shoves him back down.

"Don't move, brother," Thor says, voice hard as he tries to quell the anxiety in his chest, "it's fine. Just remain here."

Loki stares at his blue skin for a long second, then flicks his gaze up to Thor, "I think…" he trails slightly, then squints a little, "that the light is to bright. It hurts. Can you dim it?"

Thor buries his initial surprise and nods, rising to his feet and dampens the light before moving to sit beside the tub again. "Are you hale?" Thor questions.

Loki blinks tiredly and looks up at him, "This is helping. Greatly. Thank you. This skin...it's colder. See?" Loki reaches out to touch his arm and Thor doesn't draw back even if his instincts  _scream_ at him to. Jotunn flesh is supposed to burn, but all that happens when Loki touches him is a little tingle spreading across his skin and a goosebump forming.

Thor blinks with surprise. It doesn't hurt, it just feels like he's touching chilled metal. "Oh." He voices, "I thought it would hurt."

"Me too," Loki says with some reluctance, then worries his lip between his teeth before admitting, "I feel...I feel like I've come  _home_ in this form."

Thor nods and tries to ignore the  _bizzarity_ of this as he responds: "Then you should stay in it more often."

After that, Loki does. He spends a majority of that summer cramped in Thor's room with a book in his Jotunn skin and learns how to stop ice from forming on the pages, how to eat things without throwing it up, just how to  _live_ as a Jotunn. Thor helps were he can, and eventually when he walks into his room to find Loki in his Jotunn form curled up on one of the couches in the large sitting room he hardly uses, he doesn't even think it odd. He just sighs and grumbles under his breath about how Loki needs to stop stealing his room and throws a thin blanket over the raven-haired. He doesn't need it, but Loki likes the weight.

Thor plops down at the edge of the couch and shoves the book Loki was reading off, then begins to clean some of his hunting arrows. Loki shuffles in his sleep so his feet are pressing against Thor's leg, and Thor twitches at the chill, then adjusts and returns to cleaning.

Loki being Jotunn goes from hardly thought about to  _normal._

000o000

Years fly by after that summer and Loki learns how to use his Jotunn biology to the advantage. He climbs to the peaks of the Dejorunn mountains (a feat most Aesir can't survive from the cold), and drinks from the Waterfall of Kings, he learns how to create weapons from only ice, survive extreme temperatures, and even for pranks.

On a particularly rough quest with the temperatures below freezing, Loki sends him and the Warrior's Three to bed with an annoyed wave of his hand and when they wake up the next morning, he's fine. The Warriors Three are amazed, but he and Loki spend the rest of the journey offering stupid theories and laughing behind their backs. Later, Loki uses his ice to fight dragons and fire and Thor realizes that he is beyond  _glad_ to know a Jotunn.

He is even more glad to have Loki as a brother.

Loki being Jotunn is like Thor having blond hair. It's just a fact of life and neither of them think on it anymore. It just  _is._

000o000

Thor is Midgardian eighteen and Loki is fifteen when they take their first journey to Muspelheim with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. The weather is burning and they barely manage to find and take their goal (the sword of Surtur) back with all their limbs intact. Thor nearly loses his legs to fire and Loki doesn't make it to the Bifrost sight before he slips into unconsciousness and Thor follows.

He never quite hears how the Warriors Three and Sif got them home alive, but he awakens to his parents fawning over him and Eir shoving them out of the way as she checks his legs and proclaims him unfit to leave the bed for several days.

Thor is unhappy, but turns to her anyway, "Where is Loki?" He croaks out. His throat is burning and he doesn't think the smoke of Muspelheim will ever clear out properly.

Eir points to his left and Thor flicks his gaze in that direction to see Loki slumped against a cot, his face drawn pale and wrapped in so many bandages Thor can barely see any skin. His stomach sinks with horror and drawn panic, and Eir thins her lips at it. "Your brother doesn't do well in warm weather, Thor."

It's supposed to be a vague hint, but when Thor knows  _what_ she's hinting at it changes to realization. Loki can't survive heat, and  _Eir knows that he's Jotunn._

Eir exits after that with his parents, then allows Sif and the Warriors Three to join them in the room. Sif's expression is drawn with worry, but Volstagg smacks him on the back with good cheer and says that he'll bring him Surtur's sword to show what they accomplished.

Thor doesn't know how that will help, but he nods anyway.

Sif lingers by the bed for a moment, quiet, and shares a look with the other four before she flicks her gaze towards the closed door. She leans towards Thor and takes his hand gently, "Thor," she starts softly, "is your brother adopted?"

And— _oh._

The only way Loki could survive that was to change back and— _Oh._

Thor gnaws on his inner lip for a second, "Yes," he admits with some reluctance, "he's a Jotunn."

Sif's expression is relieved and she nods, then glances towards Loki, "He shifted before we could get you to the Bifrost Site, we were worried that maybe…"

"No," Thor assures, "he does that. Just because my brother is Jotunn doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him."

"Of course not," Hogun agrees quietly, "he's still Loki. He's a pain in the butt."

Fair.

Thor grips Sif's hand tighter, "My parents have kept it secret and I need you to honour that."

Fandral nods, "We will. We'll tell him that we know later."

Thor returns the gesture and then they launch into a different topic that doesn't feel quite so  _wrong_ to be discussing with Loki unconscious not ten feet from him. When Eir finally drags them out of the room, Thor is exhausted. He slips into a dazed state with her tonics and only jolts awake at the sound of his parents talking quietly:

"Did you ever believe you would get so attached?" Frigga questions softly. He can't see what she's doing, and he feigns sleep.

"No," Odin answers, voice equally silent.

"We should tell them," Frigga whispers. Tell them. Tell them  _what?_  "Loki needs to know to prevent something like this happening again, and Thor would—"

"What?" Odin cuts, "You know how he is. He'd plow into it without any tact—" the sting is sharp, but it isn't from his burns, "—and Loki...he's still not ready. We'll just be more careful in the future."

_They're discussing whether or not to speak about the adoption._

_They still think Thor and Loki don't_ know.

"Odin…" Frigga sighs.

"No." Odin says sharply, "We will wait until later."

The two exit the room some time later, and Thor opens his eyes slightly to look towards Loki, then realizes that Loki was feigning sleep too. Their eyes meet. He shares his doubt and surprise.

Their parents are still not going to tell them.

So they won't tell their parents that they already know.

000o000

They leave the Healing Halls a few days later, sore and grumpy. They stumble to their separate chambers and Thor attempts to sleep through the night, but can't stop seeing the sting and hiss of the fire and the burn of it.

He and Loki end up sleeping on the couches of his lounge that night.

When Sif and the others tell Loki, Volstagg gives him a cake. Loki doesn't hit anyone and no one brings it up again. At least, not in a rude way.

000o000

Years later, Thor throws open Loki's door, breath escaping him in heaves. "Loki!" Thor calls, stumbling into the clean space and trying to locate his raven-haired brother amidst everything.

Loki materializes beside him suddenly, eyes wide with concern. "Brother, what is the problem? Are you hurt?"

Thor shakes his head rapidly. "No. Father has just set a date for my coronation. I'm to be  _king."_

Loki's eyes widen with surprise.

Thor thrusts himself onto one of the couches, "Oh, Norns." He breathes. "I'm not ready."

Loki shoves his feet off the side. "Hmph."

"Loki, I'm going to be the worst king—"

"No." Loki interrupts before Thor can continue his moping. "Don't fret, if you try to do something stupid, I'll punch you."

Thor feels considerably calmer after that.

000o000

To celebrate the occasion, Sif's family invites him and Loki over for dinner. Thor hasn't been over often, but he has visited enough that it isn't to unusual. He and Loki meet Sif outside the door and she greets them with a smile and invites them inside.

Her father is a cold, if a little unfeeling man and Thor would be a liar to admit that he's not overly fond of him. Her mother is warm and supportive, giving out far to many hugs for Loki's liking and Thor laughs at his expense.

As Sif's mother pulls Thor away to look at some of her favorite draperies, Loki sends Sif a pleading look and she takes pity on him. "Mother," Sif says and the woman looks back at her.

"I just remembered I had that artifact I wanted Loki to look over, we'll join you at evening meal." Sif says. Her mother narrows her eyes, but nods—dismissing her. Thor is left to listen to her discuss fabrics and try to not reveal his boredom.

Twenty minutes later, a servant comes rushing up to them. "Mistress!" The girl shouts in distress. "Mistress!"

Sif's mother grabs her shoulders. "What is the problem?"

"Fire!" The girl shouts. "The kitchens are on fire! We must go!"

Thor's stomach jolts. He and Sif's mother make a break for the exit.

They are standing outside staring at the billowing smoke when Loki joins them with a flood of servants. Thor rapidly scans the crowd and turns to Loki, "Where is Sif!?"

Loki pales. "She was behind me." He breathes he moves for the door and Thor recognizes that look a second before he grabs his shoulder. No. No heroics this time. Not with  _fire._

"No. Loki—"

Loki shakes his head and flicks his hand out, his Jotunn skin showing. "No, I can survive as this. I hold cold better." His expression softens, "I'll be fine, Thor."

Thor's throat is swollen with panic. Loki teleports and Thor's grip lands on open air.

Loki.

Loki, that  _stupid_ , horrible—

Thor remains still and panicking until Loki arrives with Sif in his arms two minutes later. Loki is still in his Jotunn form and receives many stares, open gaping, and murmured words.

Loki stumbles to his knees where Thor can see that he has awful burns on his chest and back. Sif stumbles to the ground and Thor grabs his brother's shoulder.

"Loki—!" Loki makes a noise between a croak and groan and falls forward, unconscious. "Someone call for a healer!" Thor demands, cradling his brother next to his chest.

The fire gets put out and Loki is taken by Eir, form still Jotunn.

000o000

Loki remains in his Jotunn form, and doesn't change back.

Everyone stares, but Loki sleeps.

Eir assures them that it's normal and that he'll likely remain in bedrest for several days, then gives Thor's shoulder and exits. It's as if she's trying to reassure him, or perhaps offer comfort, but her words were for Loki's medical state, her touch was for his mind. Thor realizes with a jolt that they're expecting him to be unaccepting of this.

Perhaps to scream, shout, and rage.

But that would accomplish nothing, and Loki is still his brother whether or not he bares a second skin underneath his Aesir. It's no different from when Loki changes into a snake or a fish, he's still Thor's brother.

His mother keeps shooting him glances of concern and gripping his hand every so often.

Thor allows her to think she's offering comfort and for the most part ducks his head into one of the various medical books within the vicinity and, in an attempt to ignore everyone's stares,  _reads._

"Thor," his mother addresses softly after another hour has past, "you know you can talk to me, yes?"

"Yes." Thor reassures, looking up at her with confusion, "Eir is certain he'll recover, what else is there to discuss?"

Frigga looks startled, and more than a little confused, "I—" she pauses, then her brows furrow, "yes. Do you not want to talk about the…" she trails as Thor lifts an eyebrow and shakes her head.

"He's adopted." He says pointedly, "He was chosen. What else do you want me to say?"

Frigga looks a level of confused that must be painful.

Thor returns to the book.

000o000

Some two days later Thor has read through most of the works on bloodwork that Eir has available and he's scouring through ones he stole from the history section of the library with one hand as he rubs circles into Loki's palm with the other. His skin is cool to the touch, but not painful. Never painful. It doesn't burn as everyone says Jotunn skin does. It never has. He's well into the Vanir and Aesir War when Loki's hand twitches.

He flicks his gaze up to his brother and his chest leaps with relief when he sees Loki's eyelids fluttering open. His younger brother groans and lifts his other hand to cover his face, muttering something unsavory about the light under his breath. Thor snickers quietly and Loki lifts his hand to glance over at him, then stares.

"Norns, I've really made it to Valhalla, haven't I?" Loki questions.

"No, Brother," Thor assures.

"You're  _reading."_

Thor rolls his eyes with annoyance, "Yes, I do engage in it sometimes."

Loki lets his hand flop over his red eyes again and Thor hears the healers moving in the background, likely alerted by the spell surrounding Loki's cot to let them know when he awakens. Loki is quiet for another long moment, "Is Sif well?"

"Hale and whole, as you intended." Thor assures, "You were the worst off from the fire."

"How long have I been asleep?"

Thor pauses, then thinks back for a moment, mentally doing the math. "A little over fifty hours." He admits with a shrug. Loki stiffens at that as if surprised, then seems to evaluate himself and determine that number is probably accurate.

"Prince Loki!" Eir addresses sharply, stepping into the room as she ties up her hair, "I keep telling you not to come back here. I'm going to have to clear out a room just for you if this keeps happening."

Loki groans in response.

Thor sets the book on the bedside table and turns to Eir, "I'm not sure where the light adjustment is in this room, but the brightness is hurting his eyes. Can you change that?"

Eir stares at him for a moment, then nods and waves her hand to dim the fires and glowing chimes with sorcery, "Ah, yes, of course. My apologies. Loki, how are you feeling?" Eir questions as she takes the steps needed to reach beside the cot. Loki mumbles out a response that doesn't sound very coherent, and Thor can't make it out.

Judging from Eir's expression she didn't either.

Eir lifts the chart of his vitals, currently measured with sorcery and when her expression doesn't flicker with a frown, Thor considers it a win. "All things considered, you're healing at a much faster rate than I expected. I might be able to let you go today. I've alerted the King and Queen to your awakening, when they arrive we'll discuss our options."

Loki gives a tired hand signal of the affirmative.

They only have to wait a little under ten minutes before Frigga and Odin thrust themselves into the room with worry and concern. Frigga's hair is tied up for the court, and Odin is dressed for such. Thor's lips thin a little when he realizes they were probably in the middle of a meeting with the curia regis about something important.

"Loki!" Frigga exclaims with happiness, "My son, how do you fare?"

Loki pulls his hand away and offers her a tired smile, "Well enough, Mother."

Frigga's smile tightens an infinitesimal amount as the red meets her blue and Thor gives Loki's hand a squeeze of reassurance. They haven't seen this side of him as much as Thor has. Loki returns the pressure after a moment and struggles into a sitting position despite Eir's steady glare.

Frigga gives him a gentle hug, careful to keep a layer of clothing between him and her skin, though, and draws back. "It is good to see you awake once more."

Loki nods and shuffles backwards a little so he's leaning against the wall. He winces slightly, a hand coming to press against the bandages drawn around his chest, but any other discomfort is hidden from his features.

Odin takes a step forward, his lips drawn thin. "Loki, son," he addresses calmly, his voice the even tone he only takes when he's trying to hide his emotions. Namely anxiety. "We need to discuss something pressing. About this form."

"Oh, yes." Loki's gaze flicks down at his skin for a moment, as if honestly surprised before through his squinted eyes he he gnaws on his inner lip before shaking his head slightly. Thor feels the rush of warmth run through Loki's veins where the sorcery has touched and a moment later Loki's skin returns to the more familiar Aesir skin. Frigga's jaw falls a little and Thor sees Odin's eye widen with surprise.

"What was it that you wanted to discuss, Father?" Loki questions as if he doesn't  _know._

As if they  _all_ don't.

Odin's staring as if he can't form words.

Frigga is silent for a long second before swallowing and appears to gather herself together. "You...you  _knew?"_ She questions her voice thick with disbelief. Thor and Loki share a look. Frigga's eyes follow, " _Both_ of you?"

Thor thins his lips, "Yes." He answers simply.

"But," Odin stumbles over the word, "I thought... _how?_ You were never told. We never meant to tell you and you've had no access to…how long have you known?"

Loki's eyes have tightened a little, but his voice is still level when he answers: "Since I was a child. Father, did you  _really_ expect that I would go my entire life and never stumble upon it  _once?"_

Odin's gaze flickers away with an embarrassed shame. Yes. He did.

Thor's fist clenches with frustration.

Frigga's still staring between the two of them with amazement, "But...why did you never tell us?"

Loki smiles, but it's thin and almost sad, "Mother, we were waiting for  _you_ to tell  _us._ We thought that you had a reason to withhold it, but I can see now that it was nothing more than fear."

Frigga draws in a breath, then rests a hand on his leg, "No. Of course we had a reason, Dearheart. We wanted to protect you from the hate that Asgard has dreamt up about Jotunheim. We never wanted you to feel different."

"I  _am_ different." Loki corrects, his voice thinned. He's gripping Thor's hand so tightly it's almost painful, but Thor lets him. If it's all he can do for Loki, at least he still knows he can draw comfort from him. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Trying to shame a part of who I am wasn't going to solve anything."

"We were not trying to  _shame_ it." Odin corrects briskly. "We were waiting until you were ready."

Thor huffs despite himself. All of them level their gazes at him, "I apologize, but Father, I can't believe you were prepared to withhold this from him for his entire life. Loki  _deserved_ to know. If you were truly unafraid of it, you would have allowed both Loki's Aesir  _and_ Jotunn parts to be welcomed into our family. You didn't."

Frigga's lips thin and Thor realizes her eyes are wet. She exhales sharply, "Then we will fix that. Both are a part of our family, and we will not allow one to hide from the other." She smiles with determination. A promise in her next words: "Because I love you my sons,  _every_ part of you. It's time we showed it."

* * *

 


End file.
